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Prolong

Run, that one word is replaying through my head over and over. Run.

I remember the shouting, my father and him arguing over me. I remember the screaming of my mother at two o'clock in the morning, begging for her life. I remember the gunshot, and my mother falling to the ground, now with a bullet wound in the head. "Run!" my father screamed, before I heard an unforgettable gurgle come from his throat as it was cut.

Now my best friend Nick and I are running for our lives, trying with all our might to run from him. If we slow down he will catch us, then we will die.